


Sweet on You

by bigcatsandkatanas



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, all sorts of fluffy, and paul likes to let him think he's a tough guy, daryl likes to think he's a tough guy, expletives here and there, sex happens, straight forward romcom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-07 10:08:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7710976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigcatsandkatanas/pseuds/bigcatsandkatanas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Paul has got himself into quite a heap of trouble. When forced to deal with a messy situation involving his bitter heartbroken roommate, Paul falls back on a man who agrees to save the day. From that point on drunken promises seem to backfire in the most pleasant way possible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Sock

**Author's Note:**

> heyo. i just decided to spit this fic right out to counteract my less fluffy fic I'm currently working on. What can I say, there's two sides to me. heh. I probably will make this two or three chapters including a happy ending with a cherry on top. Sorry about any typos. Enjoy.

They said never fuck your roommate. It’s a golden rule.

But Paul fell victim to impulse, he was lonely, no one else was around except his roommate who at the time seemed like a viable option after having a few drinks. Lips collided clumsily, one thing leading to another, to another, eventually reaching a disappointing conclusion.

Something that was so casual became anything but. It reached a boiling point eventually. Unsaid words, seething frustration, among other things had to bubble to the surface.

Before everything things were fine. They’d chat amicably, some would say they were even friends. The best part of their relationship was how they knew just when to give each other space and privacy but with that gone, Paul felt like his own home was suddenly a warzone.

Ever since he was a kid, Paul was always a negotiator. He’d always find a way out of anything. Hoping to smooth over the situation he slid a letter underneath his roommate’s door, preparing him a fancy dinner so they could finally talk. Paul didn’t get that reply. After serving the two dishes, he sat down, a solitary, empty chair right across from him. He cut into the chicken with his knife and fork and put it into his mouth, watching his roommate’s bedroom door. He could see the shadow underneath linger, move and then eventually back away.

He was getting the silent treatment until it eventually wasn’t.

More and more outside parties were coming over, people Paul didn’t know. He’d try to talk to him but he’d get an evil eye in return. Girls, boys, whatever. Paul didn’t actually care until the wee hours of the night. He’d hear the thumps, the loud moans, the laughter. His roommate was fucking people on purpose and he was being so god damned loud about it, just rubbing it in

Paul wasn’t jealous, he was bitter, not for the typical reasons. It hurt some deeper darker part of his psyche. His eyes wide open as he stared at the ceiling.  He wanted to bring home someone too. His job just never gave him the option to have a life. Working ridiculous hours, rarely seeing the light of day. College was long gone, this was the lifeless hell after it. Mornings he left with a crisp clean suit and by evenings he looked completely disheveled.

Some mornings he'd find a stranger in the kitchen eating his cereal, using the last of the milk. The empty carton menacingly still in the fridge.

Eventually there was a night he couldn’t handle it anymore. There was a sock on the door knob and the echoes of a girl giggling from inside. Paul covered his face, cringing, deciding he’d be better off some place else. Some place he could drink these troubles away, bide his time until they were passed out.

In a drunken haze he sat on a stool at a bar, his neck barely holding his head up.

And then there _he_ was in all his bravado. The answer to something, the answer to everything.

At the corner booth sat a man, a mysterious man, broad shoulders, hair covering just enough of his face to draw Paul in out of pure curiosity.

Everything about him spelled out trouble. Smoking a cigarette, a smirk on his lips as he watched the television. So rough, so masculine. He belonged on the cover of a magazine.

Paul had to remind himself to keep his jaw from falling. He was just that taken by him.

Maybe he was just that drunk but there was no way in hell he couldn’t make it obvious that he had his eyes on him. Licking his lips, raising his eyebrows, his eyes glazed over just wondering what kind of story his might be. Imagining all sorts of love sick scenarios in his head of the ways they could strike up conversation, take it somewhere else. Kiss a little bit. Rough and soft all at once. Paul’s knees were going weak. He had infatuation spelled out on his face whether he liked it or not.

He ordered another drink, then turned again, this time the man was gone. From around his shoulder the man appeared, his eyes were slits, glaring a hole right through him.

“Yo, you got a problem with me.”

Paul nodded side to side nearly falling off his chair, bracing himself on his counter. He raised one hand, a reassuring smile on his lips. “Problem? No. No. Sir. Eh. I mean. No. No problem at all. Did I look that way? Like I had a problem with you?”

“You sure as hell were staring pretty hard.”

For a moment Paul panicked trying to find a good enough excuse since he didn’t deem himself ready to just spill the beans and ask if they could find a nice place in the alley to relieve some tension. Paul wasn’t sure if he was that kind of man, although he desperately wished he would be. He had a way with swaying some men, broadening their minds so to speak. It sure as hell was a devilish thought. “You looked like someone…someone I know…” Paul rested his head against his cheek, his eyes drooping but still glistening a bright green.

“Oh,” the man didn’t know how to process the info, but he was looking for a fight and he was quickly realizing there was no fight here. He only knew how to crank the intensity from a 1 to a 10, but he didn’t know how to bring it back down.

“I can buy you a drink,” Paul casually suggested.

“For staring,” he crookedly smirked, looking the other way, his cheeks a little flushed. Paul noticed this in complete glee, his heart jumping hard in his chest. Was this guy actually getting bashful around him? “Naw. I got some place to be.”

“I’m Paul,” he offered him his hand but the man just awkwardly stared at it, eventually reaching out by the time Paul was changed his mind about the overly formal gesture.

“Daryl,” he shifted awkwardly. “A drink’s not so bad.”

“No. No it isn’t,” Paul practically purred. “A drink is a drink.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” Paul dropped his head, then raised his gaze back to Daryl’s. Now he could finally see his face. He had strange features, they were no doubt striking in their own way. Narrow eyes, a piercing blue and crow’s feet which confirmed to his earlier theory that this man had lived quite a long life before they crossed paths, longer than his own. His face was engaging nonetheless. He was certain he’d never seen anyone else like him.

From that point on it was a little bit of a haze. He could remember insisting they go someplace together. A diner or something. They ate pancakes. That’s the one part that stood out the most. Sitting across from this guy, he was a quiet kind of guy, probably filled to the brim with secrets, a shady past. But there was certainly something about him. He brought about this warm feeling in his chest, he could practically feel his body humming from delight just from being around him. And honestly all he could do was talk, Daryl nodding every now again. He was a great listener and even better to look at.

Paul woke up in the morning from what seemed like the most blissful dream. He was in bed, the sheets over him. His shoes were carefully placed near the door that was open a crack. When he got up, he noticed he was still in his work clothes. He practically peeled them off and decided it was best to take a shower.

After finishing, he got out wearing sweatpants and a tank top. As soon as he opened the door he saw his roommate looking at the couch, with his hands on his hips.

“Who the fuck is this,” he hissed.

Paul flinched, his head still aching. “I don’t know? Didn’t you bring someone home last night?”

“I was with a girl, not a guy,” he gestured towards the sleeping form.

“Oh,” Paul’s eyes brightened. “He’s fine. That’s fine. He’s uh—a friend. His name is—it’s Daryl.”

Daryl was curled up on the couch, a leather jacket covering his shoulders, his face buried deep in the cushions.

“I don’t remember him,” his roommate frowned.

“I know him from work,” Paul ran his hands through his hair, then putting it up in a bun.

“You going to work out,” his roommate asked, getting his stuff together from the kitchen counter and putting it into his messenger bag.

“Later yeah. I’m just going to stick around and chill.”

“You have a look at the bills?”

“No,” Paul narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“Nothing.”

With that he left. Paul was suddenly alarmed, going to the table next to the door and going through the letters. His jaw nearly dropped when he saw the cable bill.

Daryl was down the hall, groggily looking at Paul. “I don’t like that guy,” he grunted, rubbing his nose.

Paul’s eyes widened before he fluttered his eyelashes. “Why is pay-per-view still a thing? Who still pays for their porn,” he laughed tensely.

“Eugh,” Daryl cringed the moment porn was brought up.

“He’s a jerk. I’m sorry if we woke you up.”

“It’s fine. You uh—got any grub?”

“Grub,” Paul walked towards him, chuckling to himself, “Yeah well, let’s see.” He moved in close although he didn’t intend to brush against his back the way that he did, it’s just their kitchen wasn’t that big. It was nice though, the smell of smoke and alcohol. It reminded him of their time together, whatever they might have done.

“Anything’s fine. I’m not a picky eater.”

“Well there isn’t much. I can make an omelet and throw things in.” Paul looked out from behind the fridge with a weak smile on his lips.

“Hey that’s good for me.”

For a while they were in silence, Daryl nervously tapping on the marble counter as he looked around the room. Paul was taking out the ingredients and then got out a knife, placing it down on the cutting board, looking up at Daryl.

“Forgive me for asking but I need to…”

“Yeah… what,” Daryl grunted nonchalantly.

“Did we uhm,” Paul swallowed, his face flushing at the thought of them being together. “Were we uh—friendly?”

“What,” Daryl smirked, looking confused. “We talked yeah.”

“Oh. Just talked?”

“Yeah. Why,” now Daryl was really confused.

“Nothing. It’s nothing,” Paul returned to his task at hand. “I mean it’s a little weird. Me inviting you over and all.”

“You were wasted. _We_ were wasted. I took you back here, threw you on the bed…”

Paul licked his lips and raised his eyebrows, his eyes practically glowing, “And you slept on the couch? What a gentleman.”

“Whatever,” Daryl blushed. He was surprised to see a bottle of gatorade placed in front of him.

“It helps with the hangover.”

“I’m used to it,” but he still took a drink out it, he was thirsty. “You mind?” He pulled out a cigarette from the box in his breast pocket.

“No. I don’t care. Smoke all you want. Stay in my roommates room and just rub the ashes all over his sheets,” Paul sighed. “No that’s cruel.”

“Is it,” Daryl lit the cig, sucking on it then blowing out smoke. “Doesn’t seem like he respects you all that much.”

“I want him out of here.”

“Yeah I know. It’s all you’d talk about.”

“How much did I say?”

Daryl’s eyes grew large, clenching his jaw. “More that I’d like to know.”

“About?”

“Yeah uh—“

“The sex was so bad, Daryl,” Paul gasped out, putting his hands over his face in embarrassment. “I want to just undo it.”

“Can’t undo that,” Daryl frowned, wishing the memory away.

“You know, if I could trade in memories, I’d trade those so I could remember last night,” Paul said with a smile once he started chopping up the vegetables.

“What’s so great about me, huh,” Daryl laughed out.

“The things you don’t say, the things you do say,” Paul shrugged. He cracked one egg then another, whisking it with a strange grace in his movements. There was a stray hair or two hanging out from the messy bun. Daryl could get used to seeing him in his natural environment. He seemed to be a guy who had everything figured out, unlike him.

Daryl just scoffed, and continued smoking his cigarette.

“I can take care of the roommate problem. I mean you asked last night…”

“I did,” Paul smirked. “You are being too nice. Did I promise you breakfast for it?”

“Heh. You tried to find an ATM to pay me.”

Paul couldn’t help laughing out loud before suddenly growing serious, “I didn't ask you to kill him, did I?”

“Huh? No. You said I looked like a tough guy.”

“Really? And are you,” Paul questioned a little too flirtatiously.

Daryl smirked with a confidence he didn’t have before. “I’ve dealt with worse people if that’s what you mean.”


	2. In Orbit

Daryl certainly was a man of his word. Like a tomcat he went about marking his territory. Paul watched in awe as he saw him work his magic. He drank a cup of tea as Daryl grabbed some frozen tofu and shoved it into the garbage disposal.

“What is this shit,” Daryl asked.

“It’s tofu.”

“This is a fuckton of tofu,” Daryl grumbled, throwing the containers into the sink. “Doesn’t look edible.”

“He lives off the stuff,” Paul took a drink out of his mug. By then the floor was covered in trash; candy wrappers, snack foods, dirty clothing. “So what do I do? I feel like a useless bystander.”

“Ain’t that the point?”

“I suppose,” Paul said with a sigh. “When you’re done doing whatever it is you have planned to do, want to watch a movie?”

Daryl grunted, Paul was unsure if it was a yes or no.

“We don’t have to,” he felt he needed to add just to save face. Daryl stopped what he was doing and turned to him.

“What you got?”

In Paul’s room, Daryl crouched looking at the dvds on the shelf. “You collect these?”

“Yeah. Impressed,” Paul asked with an air of confidence.

“It’s alright,” Daryl shrugged. It was more than alright. His eyes focused on the spaghetti westerns he had. “Clint. I like Clint.”

“Who doesn’t,” Paul crossed his arms. “You got the squint nailed down. You can pass for him.”

“Whatever,” Daryl chuckled, “Not even.” He got up satisfied with his pick. He shoved it into Paul’s hands. “We’ll see this.”

“Alright then.”

“You uh,” Daryl looked uncomfortable all of a sudden, “You got condoms?”

“Yeah. I uh…” Paul practically jumped to his dresser, digging through his clothes, triumphantly taking out a big box. “I buy in bulk,” he explained, cringing at what that said of his personal life.

“This box is mostly full,” Daryl looked in and started pulling them out, ripping the packages open, then stretching on the condoms.

By now Paul was confused, albeit a little disappointed. “Uhm.” He swallowed.

“I’m gonna throw a bunch of rubbers in his trash can like someone’s been fucking on his bed,” Daryl shrugged.

“Oh,”he licked his lips. “Maybe he’ll get jealous,” Paul said softly, a little hopeful to see his reaction, “Like if he thinks _we’ve_ been…”

“Hmm,” Daryl watched him strangely, cocking an eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

It was grotesque seeing Daryl leave his mark on the other guy’s room. Rubbing his lube covered fingers on the sheets. Messing up his bed, then haphazardly putting it back together again. He sat at the edge and pulled out two cigarettes offering one to Paul.

“I don’t smoke,” Paul nodded.

“Suit yourself,” he grumbled, lighting both cigarettes in his mouth, smoking them at the same time. “Post coital cigarettes, you know like in the movies.” Daryl laughed to himself.

“And you don’t care about the risk of—“

“I’m gonna die either way. At least I have some say in it,” Daryl muttered his ready answer, he clearly had been asked this before. “You look like…heh…you haven’t got a single toxin in your blood.”

“You saw me get wrecked last night. That’s poison.”

“Yeah but your liver cleans that shit right out. And you don’t seem like an alcoholic to me.”

“No,” Paul smiled. He took one of the cigarettes out from Daryl’s lips and smoked it himself. He frowned. “Tastes like shit.”

“It’s cheap because I’m dirt poor.”

Paul started coughing so hard that he started laughing. “Stay here, yeah?”

Daryl dropped his head, resting his hands on his knees before bringing his gaze back up, squinting like he was looking straight into the sun, “Ya sure?”

“Sure. Where else do you have to go?”

“I got a bike, the road’s my home.”

“Bullshit. Don’t you like beds?”

\--------

It was already dark out by the time they started watching the movie. The living room was warmly lit by a soft lamp, painting the walls different shades of brown and orange. Paul had a pretty big tv, Daryl hadn’t seen one this big for a while outside of the usual window shopping he’d do when he felt like dreaming.

Daryl was a big dreamer. Watching these guys in Mexican standoff, pointing guns at one another, every bit as hostile as the world he lived in. All this stuff was over embellished but it wasn’t too far off from reality. Life with Merle was like some bad movie. Life on the road didn’t feel any better, but at least there was some freedom.

Freedom of choice. The possibility to live a life with no boundaries, no outside force shaping him to be someone he couldn’t be, didn’t want to be. No. Not anymore.  

For a while Paul had a chip lingering near his mouth, he hadn’t bitten on it. It was just there, resting on his lower lip, his eyes large as he watched the movie, his body tensing up in anticipation as the music played loudly. “I always loved this part,” he said excitedly.

Daryl watched him fondly for a while, not quite figuring out how to pry his eyes off of him.

He was _so_ —Daryl wasn’t so sure what he was, but he was definitely something worth looking at.

Paul’s eyes moved away from the tv for a moment, his hand clutching at his cell phone, pressing the side button, putting a stop to the vibrating.

“It’s been doing that a lot,” Daryl pointed out, getting comfortable on the coach, stretching and crossing his legs on the glass cocktail table.

“My job. I can’t have just one day off. I ignore it so I don’t have to know what’s going on.”

“What do you work as?”

“I work for a senator. You know how that goes.”

“Heh not really.”

“I’m busy…a lot.”

“Why don’t you turn off the phone?”

“Cause they’d freak out if it was off. I’m kind of important.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t look surprised.”

Daryl nervously scratched his nose, “Should I be?”

“Hmm no.” Their eyes locked for a moment, Paul’s eyes glazing over, the world suddenly going still, “We could…stop the movie for a while…if you want…”

“Uhm. Why,” Daryl shifted uncomfortably, breaking their eye contact, “You said you liked this part right? Why stop now?”

“I like you,” Paul raised his eyebrows, then nodded his head side to side for sounding so stupid. This guy could easily be straight and maybe he was reading all the signals wrong. He didn’t need to get himself into this kind of trouble again, especially with him being on wrong end. There’s no way he could come out of this in one piece.  “I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“It’s okay,” Daryl stuttered, then took a long swig out of his beer bottle. His hand slipped as soon as he put it back on the table, the beer spilling all over his hand. He shook the liquid off and rubbed it on his pants. “Oh shit.”

“Hold on,” Paul grabbed some paper towels and started wiping the floor.

“You don’t have to.”

He didn’t listen to Daryl, he’d already cleaned up the mess and had another beer in tow handing it to the other man. “Here you go.”

Daryl popped the bottle cap open, looking at Paul as he settled back into the couch, pushing the play button.

Almost immediately they were interrupted.

Someone was fumbling with the front door, the sound of the door knob opening and keys jingling. The roommate was home. Daryl and Paul immediately looked at one another, trying to hush down their laughter. The kitchen light went on, and a few seconds passed before there was a harsh scream.

“Who the fuck did this to my tofu? Where the fuck is my tofu?”

Again Daryl spilled his beer, his hand over his face in embarrassment. Paul covered his own mouth to muffle his laughter.  

Daryl smirked from his position, way down low in the couch. He moved his hair back off his face as he stood up. “Thought that shit went bad. Was doing you a favor bro,” he said in between clenched teeth.

Revenge felt like complete and utter satisfaction. Paul watched Daryl with hearts in his eyes. He sank into the couch cushions, biting on his lower lip, warmth spreading through his entire body like honey. He felt like a fucking teenager all over again.

\------------

For the most part things were quiet that night. Paul’s roommate disappeared into his room without a single word. He didn’t bring anyone home, he didn’t cause any trouble. Paul probably would have gotten a decent night’s sleep if he wasn’t so busy thinking about Daryl in the other room.

He tossed and turned until he eventually lay on his back, staring up at that same unforgivable ceiling. Work was tomorrow and regardless of how puffy his eyes were or how red his whites would be, it was going to be fast paced as usual. No one was going to go slow for him, no one was going to give him a god damned break. He needed some type of release or he was going to crack.

Coffee was his breakfast the next morning. Still he looked as put together as he could be. When he walked out the room he saw the coast was clear.

Daryl was with his head in the fridge. Not an entirely unwelcoming thing to see first in the morning.

Paul looked in his direction, as he buttoned the top buttons to his shirt and smoothed out his blazer. The other man seemed distracted, eventually picking out nothing and shutting the fridge door.

“You don’t got shit,” Daryl said frankly as soon as he saw Paul.

“I thought that was established,” Paul smirked. “Here uh—“ He pulled out his wallet, handing Daryl some cash. “Get whatever you want.”

Daryl was a little surprised, counting the money. “Whatever?” He smirked. “Ya trust me that much? What if I shoot up this cash and leave you high and dry.”

“You won’t,” Paul said with complete certainty.

There was a pause as they stayed silent, their eyes eventually meeting.

“Your roommate ain’t home,” Daryl wiped his mouth.

“Oh,” Paul fluttered his eyelashes before running his hands through his silky auburn hair.

“You look nice,” Daryl sauntered closer, his hands finding their way around Paul’s slimmer waist.

Finally. Some contact. Contact was nice, bridging the gap was even nicer. They kissed with such fervor Paul nearly felt himself light on fire from the heat. His breath growing shallow with each kiss, his arms pulling Daryl closer as they walked backwards into his roommate’s room.

What better revenge than this?

The thought had been on repeat in his head all night.

In between kisses Paul looked at his watch. He just had to. He had some place to be but Daryl’s warm breath was sending shivers down his spine. Just having him so near was an opportunity too good to pass.  “I have 20, 30 minutes before work.”

“Mmm okay. Let’s make these minutes count then.”

He shoved Paul down into the bed, getting straight to undressing him, untucking his dress shirt not giving the slightest shit when he started popping off those buttons. Paul moaned and moved up against him, his stomach sinking in the moment his rough hands moved from his belly to his chest, firmly grasping at his flesh. “Fuck you’re so hot,” Paul stuttered with his every touch.  Daryl hovered over him, kissing him so hard his lips were a dark red.

“I’m hot for you.”

“Yeah,” Paul asked sweetly, he smiled, stroking up and down Daryl’s arms. Focusing on those fucking amazing muscles, those biceps. Paul felt himself going dizzy. Daryl was an entirely different type of creature, something he’d never come across before. He moved the hair off his face gently, getting a good look at him, really looking at him. Both of them really looking at one another.

Paul felt a ache in his heart, it’d be so long since someone really saw him. Since someone really enjoyed his company that he felt in unexplainable instantaneous connection.

He could Daryl moving lower, undoing his belt, kissing down his stomach, adoring him.  Paul wrinkled his nose and gasped in response to the gesture. So close. So close. He thought of what was about to happen. The gates of heaven just around the corner. He couldn’t stop thinking of Daryl’s mouth, of where Daryl’s mouth would go. Where his hands would go. He raised his eyebrows, a flush spreading through his cheeks and on his chest.

Paul got on his elbows watching Daryl at the foot of the bed in between his legs, unzipping his trousers. Neither of them were as undressed as they should be but seeing parts of himself suddenly getting exposed was so hot. Paul bit on his lower lip, furrowing his brow as Daryl got closer, his hands getting closer….

Suddenly there was a knock in the door. There wasn’t a lock on the bathroom stall door so he was using his foot to keep it closed. He bounced with each knock, nearly falling off the toilet. _God damnit._ The interruption of his one moment of vulnerability was like a rude awakening. He pulled his hands out of his pants, huffing angrily.

“Hey Jesus. Sen Grimes is looking for you. You sure you need to take that shit or…”

“Yes,” Paul exploded out of pure seething frustration. “Yes I need to take this shit! Get out of here.”

“Jeez fine. Whatever. It’s on you, man.”

“Yeah fine. Fine.” With himself alone he tried again, hoping to get back into that state of mind. But instead he thought of Daryl sitting with him on the couch, both of them laughing together, Daryl’s blues really twinkling for the first time. He loved his rough laughter, the way his crow’s feet wrinkled, the way he’d always get flustered and look away if they looked at each other long enough. Paul stopped trying and let out a long sigh. This was more than text book lust and he knew it.

So back to work he went.

Now, Senator Rick Grimes was an amazing leader. Paul was proud to work for him. He was as honest as politicians could get, he really believed that he had the people’s interests in mind. A lot of the media kept comparing him to a young Bobby Kennedy, without the philandering. That didn’t mean he hadn’t had his own fair share of bad publicity. It was hard getting him through a very public divorce with adulterous photos being published on the covers of magazines. He wasn’t the one doing the cheating of course.

Paul saw firsthand his marriage falling apart, and yeah, he was around for that long and he couldn’t imagine leaving. These were better days though. Paul walked into the senator’s office, his eyes on his work phone trying to make sense of the schedule for the next couple of days.

Meanwhile Sen Grimes was busy on his own phone, a shameless smile on his face. He gestured for Paul to stay put and he did. Paul knew just who he was talking to, he couldn’t help smiling either although it was an awkward, timid smile. He dropped his head and looked towards the door.

“Don’t tell me you’re here already,” Rick chuckled low, covering his mouth.

Michonne _was_ there. She was statuesque and completely gorgeous. Paul had to admit he was in complete awe the second she’d walk into the room. She was wearing a fitted red dress that hugged her curves, white heels and a confidence that exuded class. Honestly the two of them together made an amazing couple, except no one seemed to know about it outside of Paul.

“Dinner. Now,” she pointed at Rick, smiling.

Paul felt a little embarrassed being in the room with these people. The chemistry was just that thick.

“Oh hey…Jesus right,” she waved, suddenly noticing him. You wouldn’t think it by first looking but Rick and Michonne hadn’t even been dating that long. She’d only seen Paul a handful of times.

“It’s Paul,” Jesus said softly, “But that’s fine. They call me Jesus cause well…” He gestured towards his hair and beard.

“It’s a good look,” she grinned. “You mind?”

“No problem,” Paul walked out.

“Hey you have a good night, Jesus,” Rick called from the room, “I know I will,” he said even softer. Paul turned, catching a glimpse of Rick and Michonne moving close together, her arms around his shoulders, his arms around his waist. He placed a chase kiss on her cheek and she giggled at the gesture.

He had an epiphany of his own, like fireworks in his head. Despite all his achievements, he wanted this, he wanted what was right in front of him.

And there they were in all their beauty, a lawyer and a senator in love.

_Love._

That word always had a bittersweet ring to it.

\------

Daryl found himself walking past Paul’s room, lingering near the open door. He felt his curiosity draw him in. He pushed the door open, giving the place one long contemplative look. He didn’t have the opportunity before, the last thing he wanted was Paul knowing he was intrigued by his air of mystery.

He talked so much but he never really said anything at all. Not about himself at least, nothing about his secrets, his vulnerabilities. The guy was a braggart but something in his eyes told Daryl otherwise.

Keep your nose out of other people’s things, Daryl heard in the back of his head. It was a rule he usually followed despite breaking all the rules that really mattered. He looked at one of his pictures with a bunch of his other friends beside a lake, probably at a camp or something. Daryl only recognized him by how round and green his eyes were. He didn’t have the long hair or the beard. He looked a lot younger, more carefree. Something Daryl hadn’t felt his entire life.

Daryl grunted, his lip curving upwards into what wanted to be a smile, just seeing him look that way…well… he was cute. Real cute.

The thought hitting him was bothersome considering these revelations were few and far between. He never thought of acting on it. Actually he never thought _about_ acting on it.

Outside of the usual nerdy things guys usually have in their rooms, Daryl was surprised by all the trophies. The pictures of him standing next to other guys with medals around their necks. Did he do karate or kung fu? Was there even a difference? Daryl wondered to himself.

He sat at the edge of his bed. He’d almost forgotten how nice beds felt, especially with the blankets and the comforters. Like a boy he let himself sink in, wrapping himself up in the lush feeling, warm and soft.

He rested his head on the pillow, then it suddenly occurred to him that Paul slept on that pillow. Going against his better judgement, he deeply inhaled. _Yep._ That was Paul.

Daryl got even more comfortable, kicking off his shoes and curling into the blankets. Maybe he’d take a nap and it’d be like Paul would never know. He focused on the digital clock on the nightstand. With his lids heavy he blinked a couple of times until he opened them wide.

“Oh…oh shit,” Daryl squinted, rubbing his face, and clearing out his rough throat. It was 5 then and now it was 12 am.

He got up off the bed, realizing there was a lamp in the corner of the room that was on. Paul was sitting on an office chair close by the light, a book on his lap. He was fast asleep.

Daryl was overwhelmed by embarrassment. Paul had seen. Paul knew.

He felt stupid, like a dumb little boy caught red handed. He didn’t want to think of how Paul thought of him now.

Paul shifted in his sleep, his eyes now open, half lidded and drowsy. “Hey you.” He smiled.

“I didn’t mean to,” Daryl went straight into explaining.

“You must have been tired, you slept through the fight,” Paul stretched out and yawned. “He found the condoms.”

“Shit,” Daryl grinned, but the smile faded quickly. “Uhh…”

“It’s fine. You can sleep there. I don’t do a whole lot of sleeping myself, anyway.”

“You’re not angry?”

Paul rested his hands on his stomach, leaning back lazily. He nodded side to side, swiveling the chair along with him, “No sir.” He paused, licking his lips, “You looked so peaceful,” Paul mused out loud.

“Most nights I don’t sleep peaceful,” Daryl moved his hair off his face, his cheeks still rosy red, but his back was facing Paul so he couldn’t see.

“So what was so different about my bed?”

Daryl felt his blood run cold, he froze. He wasn’t about to give him an honest answer.

Instead Paul continued, “Memory foam probably. That stuff is the shit. The commercials would always say something about astronauts. I can’t remember what, but don’t we all wish we were astronauts?” He laughed. Daryl moved slightly to catch sight of him, for whatever reason he didn’t like missing the opportunity to see him light up.

Daryl frowned. “Space is fucking scary. Floating around and shit. I want my feet on the ground for god’s sake.”

Paul paused then burst into laughter, clutching at his abs that were splitting, “I won’t argue with you there! That does seem scary.”

“They say it’s dark and cold.”

“Well you’re warm right here,” Paul scratched his beard then leaned his head on his hand, his eyes focused on Daryl affectionately.

“Yeah,” Daryl nodded, a smile wanting to find its way to his lips for a second time.

“Nothing feels better than being home,” stated Paul.

Daryl chuckled softly. “Well,” he tried to joke, “I’m home.”

A warm smile spread through Paul’s lips, really soaking in the sight of Daryl in his bed. His once cold, unpleasant bed. It didn’t seem that way anymore. Words lingered on his lips, his heart so heavy, it forced him to finally say them out loud. Suddenly making this feel all too real, the good and the bad.

“Welcome home.”

Like Paul cast a spell, Daryl was caught. He decided from that moment he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.


	3. The Great Condom Debacle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all let me tell you that this fic is a mess. I love it. I hope you guys love it and I guess it looks like i'm adding one more chapter cause I've outdone myself again. Sorry for typos and what not. Also thanks for the kudos and comments!

Just what was the nail in the coffin?

It had to be one week in. The conversation.

“Do you love him?” It was pretty blunt, and it took Paul by surprise.

Daryl was listening from the laundry room. He stayed still. Wrong place at the wrong time. He doing laundry, folding the t shirts that were still warm and fragrant, fresh out of the dryer. Luckily the door was closed but he could still make out their voices. He heard Paul scoff.

“C’mon Keith.”

Oh so the roommate had a name.

“C’mon what?”

“We’re friends and—“

“The condoms.”

“We already talked about the condoms. They weren’t mine. Take that issue with him.”

“You’re the one who brought him here! You should answer to the shit he’s stirring.”

“I don’t know what you want me to say. Do you want me to just kick him out?”

“Is he paying half the rent?”

“No. He needs some place to stay until he gets a job and—“

“Is he remotely employable? I mean seriously? Have you taken one good hard look at him?”

“He’s got plenty of skills…I’m sure of it.”

“You don’t sound so confident, huh?”

“This problem is between you and me. What finally pushed you to stop being such a childish coward?”

Keith stopped dead in his tracks, there was a long pause. Daryl wasn’t sure if he left or if he was thinking of his next words. He heard him talk softer.

“I don’t like seeing you with someone else.”

“What,” Paul sounded disgusted. “I said I was sorry. I was confused and alone and a million other things at once.”

“And I was just a distraction then?”

“No. You weren’t that.”

“Fuck you.”

“I can only say I’m sorry so many times. The most I can do is say the truth. I don’t have feelings for you, not in the way you want me to. I still care, I’m still your friend. But you’ve pushed me. And you’ve pushed so hard that I can’t look at you the same way. I really can’t. When you have a problem you talk it out. You don’t turn on the faucet overnight to hike up the water bill. You don’t order pay per view porn. And you certainly don’t rub in my own insecurities in my face!”

“So you do love him,” Keith said flatly.

Daryl could almost hear how worked up Paul was. He felt guilty for being around in such an intimate moment but he was so hooked on what his answer could be. It was stupid. He didn’t even know what he wanted to hear.

“He gets me and if you got to know him, you’d know he’s a really considerate person.”

“You actually selling him to me?”

“The best possible outcome is we put this behind us and we all get along.” There went Paul being the idealist. It stung, Daryl was certain what Keith’s answer would be.

“This is total and complete bullshit.”

“I asked him to do those things. He did those things for me. To punish you, for me.”

“So you’re a liar then?”

“I wasn’t thinking. I was hurt and angry.”

“I’m moving the fuck out. I don’t have time for this.”

“Okay. At least I can say I tried. And you know, since we’re at this point, I can really say the whole truth. Honestly I’m glad you screwed it up. If you hadn’t I wouldn’t have met him. He wouldn’t be here. And it’s crazy because I feel like a weight has been lifted. In one week he’s shown me he’s a better friend to me than you have been in the last ten years I’ve known you. He’s honest, he’s kind. You asked about skills right? There you go. You have your answer.”

Daryl heard the front door slam. He lingered, feeling his body tense, pressing the flat of his palm against the wall he was listening to. Eventually he opened the door to see Paul in the kitchen cooking up something. He moved his hair behind his ear as he chopped up some vegetables.

“He gone,” Daryl asked faintly. Paul lifted his sad gaze and nodded.

“Yeah.”

“I uh—I heard the whole thing.”

“I know. It was loud,” Paul half smiled. “So uh—“ he laughed nervously, turning and locking his eyes with Daryl’s. “You can make fun of me about the whole friend thing.”

“Nah. But he kept thinking that we were…”

“Together,” now Paul was grinning. “Well what can I say? To any outsider it could appear like that. But I think we both know…that…”  

“Yeah we’re like…brothers,” Daryl nodded seriously. Hearing those words out of his own mouth felt like some kind of betrayal. Paul’s look changed.

“Wow brothers,” Paul tried his hardest not to look like his hopes had been completely dashed, “I am flattered.” He forced a smile, his eyes dim.

“Yeah,” Daryl moved his hair off his face, searching for Paul’s gaze. That brightness was gone. Paul looked at the food then pushed it away in frustration.

“I can’t even cook. I’ll just order a pizza. Is pepperoni fine,” he said in a rush, Daryl following him not too far behind.

“Yeah? Uh I can rent a movie,” Daryl chimed in but Paul was deliberately avoiding him.

“I have a work thing,” he clutched at his cell phone, wrinkling his nose. “And uh—I can order the pizza no big deal.”

“Really,” Daryl said, doubt laid on thick in his voice.

“Yeah really.”

“It’s stupid eating by myself,” it was surprising to hear himself say this out loud but this was Paul he was talking to.

Paul blinked, feeling his heart thump hard in his chest.

They stood at the entrance to his bedroom. Paul leaned against the threshold letting out a long sigh. “I have a lot to think about. Keith being gone is good but he isn’t going to help with the bills. I don’t think he has a sympathetic bone left in him and I thought I could clutch onto what little good I thought I had…but I don’t think I even have that,” his ramble ended close to a whisper. “The bills are going to be huge.”

“Well,” Daryl’s palms started sweating, he shifted nervously. “I got your back.” Awkwardly he nudged Paul’s shoulder with his fist. Paul teetered, looking at him strangely, furrowing his brow. Daryl regretted the gesture almost immediately, it just felt weird.

“Thanks but odds are I’m losing the place, I’ll be more in debt. I’m still paying off student loans.”

“I can help with money.”

“No you don’t need to. That’s crazy, you’ve done your fair share and honestly you just being around is great. Believe it or not, but I’ve lost contact with most of my friends. I used to be a very social guy.”

“I can figure things out.”

“Not illegally I hope.”

Daryl scoffed, trying to hide his smirk. “Nah. Promise.”

\----

With unwavering eyes and crossed arms, Daryl kept a watch out for Keith. No bullshit was going down on his watch. The guy brought a couple other friends with him to move out and it was pretty uneventful. When it was the last of his things to take, Keith showed up on his own.

In any other situation the both of them would have never talked much less make eye contact.

Things were suddenly different. He walked with a hunch, his limbs moving slowly, heavily. He walked out his room, the last of his things in a box. It was filled with some records, a lamp and a couple of toys.

Keith had on skinny jeans, a striped shirt, a denim jacket, a pair of raybans keeping his dusty blond hair out of his eyes. His days of sorrow would be short lived, he’d move on, the world was full of opportunity for his type. Maybe Daryl should have felt no remorse but the second he saw him trip over his shoe laces and drop his things all over the floor, he felt worse having to watch him pick up of his stuff so he helped him.

“Hey, you okay there,” Daryl gruffly said, grabbing some of the things, handing them to Keith who was on his knees.

“I’m going. I’m going,” he diverted his gaze from Daryl, scrambling to get the stuff back in the box.

“You know,” Daryl got a really good look at him, feeling upset with the entire situation itself, “You’re a real piece of crap.”

“What,” his eyes grew large.

Daryl was staring right back intensely. “There was no reason either.”

“Well he—“

“You should have lived with it. I’ve lived with plenty of shit.”

“Great. Thanks for your advice,” he got up, clutching onto the box for dear life.

“Look don’t hate you. Neither does he.”

“I have no problem with hating you,” Keith said through his clenched jaw. “Fuckng in my bed must have felt real good huh? Well you can have the god damned room!”

“It’s ain’t like that. Okay. It just ain’t. The condom thing, I was just messing with ya.”

“How is that supposed to make me feel any better?”

“I don’t care. You don’t matter. But you’re going to man up, you’re going to pay your cut. Don’t leave him high and dry. It’s the least you can do.”

“Get a fucking judge to handle it,” Keith walked out, slamming the door behind him

Daryl could have easily followed him outside, beat the living hell out of him but he figured he’d cause more problems than solve the current one.

He waited until the night began to paint the sky. Looking for some fresh air he rode his motorcycle within the city, eventually finding himself outside of Paul’s job. Some time passed until he saw Paul walking out, talking on his cellphone, looking stressed out as usual. His tie was loosened, his collar unbuttoned, his blazer probably still inside. He hung up and raised his gaze, spotting Daryl at the end of the steps.

They stared at each other for a while before Daryl waved. Paul jogged down the steps, a dumb smile on his lips.

“I’m nowhere near done,” he said softly, running his hands through his hair. His silky wavy hair.

Daryl swallowed nervously, fixated on how his hair would feel in his hands, “I needed to see you.” It came out like complete word vomit, Paul’s eyes growing round.

“Something happen?”

“Nah. He’s gone.”

“Oh,” Paul chuckled, looking down at his shoes. “That’s good news but you could have texted or something.”

“Eat dinner yet?”

“Well—no but we’re probably going to order something. I’ve just been living on coffee and a little bit of booze if I’m being honest.”

“I can bring something.”

Paul wasn’t so sure why Daryl was looking at him this way, but he couldn’t help smiling about it. “Let’s go somewhere,” he said out of a whim. This was probably going to be an all nighter and he didn’t want to miss out on having some alone time with him. And in all honesty Daryl was looking so good, so eager to please. It tugged at his heart strings.

“I know this good place. It’s nearby.”

“Alright then,” he climbed in back of the other man, his hands hesitating for a moment before clutching at either side of Daryl’s leather jacket.

“You okay back there,” Daryl said with an air of concern.

“I’m not a kid I’ve ridden on a motorcycle before,” Paul laughed.

\---------

When they got to the place there weren’t many people inside. It looked like not a lot of people knew it even existed. Still this made sense for Daryl to find a secluded place to eat. He was the sort of reclusive guy, Paul looked at him fondly as he started ordering.

“You uhm..mind if I order for you? There’s this uh-sandwich that’s real good,’ Daryl anxiously scratched his nose and Paul nodded with a smile, placing his hand on the small of the other man’s back, rubbing him in a good natured way.

“Sure.”

Daryl blushed. This moment felt awfully couple-y.

He tried to shake the thought off but as he was sitting across from Paul, he couldn’t help wondering what forever would feel like with him. He probably should have felt scared, it was stranger that he didn’t. It felt so natural. It wasn’t long before Paul was excitedly biting into his meatball sandwich, chewing and then rolling his eyes back at how good it tasted.

“Yes,” he over embellished, “Shit. That is a good sandwich.” His mouth was half full but he stuffed himself again, taking another huge bite.

“Heh,” Daryl hadn’t even touched his yet. “You got crumbs.”

“In my beard,” Paul chewed. “Who cares?  I’m so hungry. We got this new intern and she always gets the orders wrong.”

“And sauce too.”

“You embarrassed to be seen with me,” Paul grinned ear to ear, now getting extra messy on purpose.

“Nah,” Daryl smirked, looking away bashfully. He took a bite into his sandwich and made the same noise Paul did.

Paul grabbed a napkin, one for himself and the other he cordially handed to Daryl.

The ride back felt a little melancholy, for many reasons Paul didn’t want to get back to work but the most obvious one was leaving the person he was clutching onto. They reached a stoplight and Paul felt some sense of relief, however stupid that was. But then again it was one more minute with Daryl.

Daryl felt Paul press against him closer, breathing out a sigh.

When Daryl dropped off Paul, they lingered for a few silent moments, prolonging their separation. Paul brushed the hair behind his ear, lowering his head as he scrolled through his phone.

“This thing was going off the hook,” he laughed, showing Daryl all the missed calls.

“That’s crazy.”

“Comes with the job,” Paul cocked an eyebrow, “They call me Jesus back there. I solve all the problems.”

“So what’re you doing here with me,” Daryl squinted up at him, his heart jumping hard in his chest for even asking. He felt foolish but there was something about Paul that made him feel a little braver. They were on the brink of something, he could feel them edging closer.

Paul straightened up and smiled, rolling up the sleeves of his crisp white dress shirt. “I like spending time with you, Daryl. That’s nothing new. People are stifling, I have to put on a straight face and they’re alright but in small doses. I can’t afford the luxury of small doses.”

“You need to get away from the city even if it’s for a bit.”

“What,” Paul laughed.

“Yeah go to the woods or something, knock back a couple beers….with uh—with me.”

“How do you know I’m the outdoors type?”

“I saw the pictures of you at camp.”

“Oh,” Paul crossed his arms, with a smug look on his face. “Were you looking around my room?”

“Shut up,” Daryl gruffly laughed, looking the other way almost immediately.

“God can I just say that I love how you can make me forget.”

“Forget?”

“Yeah all the bad shit going on and of course I’ll go do that camping thing with you. It sounds fun,” Paul dropped his head, brushing his hair off his face before looking up at Daryl with a glimmer in his eyes.

“Okay, cool,” Daryl tried his damn hardest not to seem enthralled by Paul accepting his invitation. He started dreaming up all sorts of scenarios in his head.

“Well I gotta go,” Paul felt his mouth go dry. “We can text. You can text me if you want.” That sounded odd saying it out loud, Paul beat himself up for it. He didn’t want to seem that obvious.

“Alright.”

Paul focused on Daryl’s lips, wondering how it’d feel to kiss them. He blinked, letting go of the thought. “Bye,” he waved.

“Laters.”

The rest of the night was one mundane chore after another, drinking coffee, brainstorming ideas with Rick, and of course, pacing the hall staring at his phone. Not his work phone, his personal one. Maybe Daryl wasn’t the texting type. It was an open invitation though, he wanted to know if Daryl thought about him as much as he did. What a teenage thing to do. Paul cringed, then turned to see Rick at the doorway staring at him like a concerned parent.

“You alright, Jesus,” Rick asked.

“Just tired.”

“Not just tired,” Rick moved closer, cocking an eyebrow. “This is kid’s stuff. You got me through worse.”

“It’s a problem, yeah. A big one,” Paul knew better than to lie to Rick. They were friends after all.

“Well. Maybe I can help you out?”

Paul stood with a slump, rubbing his eyes before eventually saying it out loud, “I think I’m in love.”

\----

Getting home was about as a welcome sight as any. It was probably two in the afternoon. Paul would have gotten home sooner but Rick insisted on taking him somewhere to eat so they could continue their long conversation about the trials and tribulations of love. It was the probably the last thing Paul needed to hear, he’d already gone over these fears many times in his head. Still in was a load off his shoulders to tell somebody.

He opened the door and got in to find the place suspiciously quiet. The spare bedroom’s door was wide open. Paul looked around to see bits of trash here and there, the only things left that confirmed a person used to live there before. It was strange seeing it so empty but it was a relief.

Daryl wasn’t in the living room or the bathroom. He wasn’t even in Paul’s bedroom.

His heart sank a little and he wondered if Daryl had bailed on him.

Luckily Daryl’s bag was still there on the couch full of his stuff. Paul let out a long sigh rubbing his face.

Before he’d fall asleep he decided to change the locks to prevent Keith from coming back.  He got out the drill and went to work despite feeling so drowsy. It was a little therapeutic doing this. Like the final ritual to ward off any negativity from his life. When he was done putting all the screws back in, he turned the knob, then closed the door and locked it. The lock slipped in and out easily. He stood up and pulled on the door, it didn’t budge.

“Great. Good,” he mumbled to himself. He put the stuff back away and threw water on his face. Again he looked at the empty couch and another idea hit his head. If he fell asleep how would Daryl get inside without having the right key? He didn’t want any risk of miscommunication so he tore out a piece of paper and wrote on it with a marker.

_Changed locks. Ring the doorbell._

No that sounded too commanding. Paul crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash and wrote another.

_I’m not kicking you out. Just ring the doorbell._

No that sounded too weird.

_I’m home, ring the doorbell._

No, too impersonal. He threw that paper away too.

_Ring the doorbell._

Ugh. Too straight to the point.

_Come home. I love you Daryl Dixon._

He scribbled it out. And rested his head on the kitchen counter, looking at the letters that formed words, the right combination of words conveying the thought that repeated itself over and over in his head. He was so sick, it hurt.

“Oh god,” he grumbled, tapping his head against the counter a couple of times. He started tearing the paper into a million pieces and threw it into the garbage disposal, grinding it up for good measure.

Left to his own devices he decided to make Daryl feel welcome when he got home. If he had a month left before having to move, Daryl was going to at least enjoy his hospitality before they’d have to go their separate ways. He swept the floor to his ex roommate’s bedroom and then started moving Daryl’s stuff in. It wasn’t many things actually. Just his bag of stuff and some dirty clothes he left on the floor. The room felt very empty.

Paul started digging through his closet taking out an air mattress, a spare office chair and an IKEA desk neither him or Keith wanted to put together. He went straight to work but didn’t get around to filling the mattress with air, he just laid it out and went back to the living room. Some time had passed already and Daryl still wasn’t back. It was probably easier to cave in and text him instead.

_It’s Paul. I changed the lock. Just ring the doorbell. I’ll be home all day. Where you at?_

No response. Hmm.

He yawned and looked at his watch. Two hours had gone by since he arrived home. Paul figured it wasn’t such a bad thing to lay down for a few minutes. He closed his eyes then fell asleep.

He woke up to the doorbell ringing. Paul rubbed his face and saw the embarrassing spit stain he left on the couch cushion, he flipped it over. “Hold on.” He opened the door to see Daryl looking anxious himself.

“Hey,” Paul paid no attention to his suspiciousness, he was just glad he was back.

“Hey yourself,” He dropped a greasy bag of food onto the counter, then kicked off his shoes and went straight to the bathroom. He came back looking cleaner, a bit confused trying to find his bag.

Paul turned on the tv and was struggling to focus on it since he was still tired. Through his periphery he saw Daryl looming close, looking around. “It’s in your bedroom,” Paul sighed out.

“My bedroom?”

“Yeah. I figured you could have the room for the next two weeks.”

“Oh about that,” Daryl scratched at his scruff. “I can pay my cut.”

“You what,” Paul searched his expression, furrowing his brows. Daryl shrugged.

“I’m making some money.”

“Like you got a job? So quick?”

“Something like that,” he looked the other direction.

“Doing what,” Paul got off the couch moving in closer, Daryl backed up a bit, laughing nervously.

“It’s not important,” he dug through his wallet and pulled out cash. “Want it now or later?”

“Now is fine,” Paul was baffled feeling the cash in his hands. He counted it. 400 whole dollars. “Wow.”

“My room huh,” Daryl looked around, surprised to see the desk and the office chair. He nearly stepped on the deflated air mattress that was rolled out on the floor. “The fuck is that?”

“Air mattress. I didn’t get around to filling it. I can do that now.”

Paul crouched, plugging in the inflator. He turned the dial and it started making the loudest noise ever as it filled the mattress with air. “There you go,” Paul shouted. Daryl backed up, covering his ears.

“How long does it take?”

“A while, it’s old.” They both said at the top of their lungs. It finally started looking firm and Paul gestured for Daryl to get on. “Get on it. Tell me if it’s comfy or not.”

“It looks alright.”

“You don’t know until you throw yourself on it,” Paul grinned, and his smile really was infectious. Daryl covered his face and laughed. “Look see!” He threw himself on the bed, bouncing and falling off of it. “No needs more air. It’s not bouncy enough.”

“Stop,” Daryl intervened, putting his hand on Paul’s arm to see if he was okay. Paul grabbed him and threw him on the bed, Daryl fell off too, the both of them now on the floor laughing loudly. “It’s ain’t comfortable at all. The couch is fine.”

“No. No. Hold on,” Paul climbed back on the bed, leaning back, and crossing his legs. He wobbled a little then pat to his side. “See get on.”

Daryl hesitated then laid next to him, staring up at the ceiling. Paul turned to his side to give him more room and honestly he just wanted an excuse to look at him. “It’s alright,” said Daryl.

“Okay,” Paul got up to turn off the inflator then went back to his earlier position. “So? Glad we got that out of the way.”

It was awkward being within such close proximity to Paul and on a bed of all places. He could feel his green eyes on him, so bright and warm. He was suddenly aware of himself at that moment. The very thought of someone staring at him from the outside looking in was bothersome. He kept to himself though, laying still on his back his hands resting on his stomach, as flat and as stiff as a board. He was out of his element, like a child with no words to say. Although he felt like this silence was leading to something more meaningful than he was prepared for.

“I’m thankful,” Paul whispered, blinking slowly as he looked at Daryl through lovesick eyes.

Daryl cleared his throat, totally prepared to compose himself and get off that bed until he felt Paul’s hand slide over his. He nearly forgot how to breathe, he swallowed and he felt chills crawl up his spine as soon as Paul intertwined his fingers in his. They locked like puzzle pieces, like it was an answer Daryl had been searching for for so long.

“You’re a great friend,” Paul continued, resting his forehead on Daryl’s shoulder. He closed his eyes, breathing softly.

 _Brother? Friend?  No it still didn’t sound right_ , Daryl thought. “Hmm.”

“This is nice,” Paul interrupted his thoughts with a voice warm and sweet like honey.

“You don’t even know me,” Daryl retorted, his defenses waning.

“But actions speak louder than words. I trust that I know a good person when I see one. And you’re more than good.” Paul rested his chin on his shoulder.

“What if I said that I’m someone you should kick to the curb if you know what’s best for ya?”

“I wouldn’t believe you because you’re still holding my hand. You didn’t push me, you didn’t shove me. You probably don’t want to hurt my feelings.”

“Never had a problem with hurting feelings,” Daryl chuckled, pausing as he briefly looked at Paul’s hand in his. “This, here. It ain’t so bad.”

 _Aint..so…bad?_ Paul’s eyes grew round and Daryl’s eyes well they were blue, really blue, a nice shade of blue. Perhaps Paul’s favorite shade of blue.

They blinked, Daryl was now facing Paul, really looking at him. There was this expression, one of sheer determination, Paul holding his lips tight and taking a gulp. He moved in closer, kissing the corner of Daryl’s lip. Daryl shut his eyes, and rubbed his forehead against Paul’s, feeling fulfilled and disappointed all at once. Still they teetered along the edge before the fall. Neither completely certain of the other’s feelings. So it stopped at that.

With their eyes closed they stayed still in that position, Paul smiled lazily, holding Daryl’s hand tighter as he positioned it over his heart. “See I’m crazy for you.”

“Mmm,” Daryl shifted, breathing him in then letting out one long relaxed sigh, “Me too.”

Talk about an intense friendship.


	4. Pitch Black (and the campfire home)

Being friends was as about as good as it gets. Nothing was better than the comfort of knowing someone would always end up coming home. On a subliminal level they could read each other loud and clear. They shared a closeness Paul couldn’t recall having with anyone else.

And the touching. The touching was always nice.

The couch was now a sacred place for them. Just watching movies, their shoulders adjacent to one another. Paul was always aching from work, from exercising, he was always on his feet. He let out a groan, rubbing at his shoulder. Daryl was shoving some Cheetos puffs into his mouth right as he noticed him in pain.

“Yo you okay there,” Daryl asked.

Paul half smiled, and fell back into the cushions, looking straight into his eyes. “Long day.”

“When you taking that vacation.”

“Well,” Paul rested his hands on his stomach. “Soon enough.”

“Come here,” Daryl gestured for him to get closer. Paul scooched, watching Daryl licking his fingers then wiping them off on a paper towel. He was housebroken, somewhat.

“What are you doing,” Paul felt Daryl’s hands on his shoulders, massaging him.

“What do you think,” laughed Daryl.

“Oh,” Paul’s head rolled forward, “That feels good,” he sighed out.

Daryl felt himself hesitate from continuing, it suddenly felt weird. Feeling the warmth of his body through the clothes, seeing the expression on his face. He honestly couldn’t think of a word other than weird to describe all of this. Paul hardly seemed bothered. Affection was probably natural to him meanwhile to Daryl it was a foreign concept. He told himself to act fine about it too.

“What you need is to get out of that god damned suit, into a hot bath, then into some sweatpants,” said Daryl.

“Like you,” Paul said with his eyes shut, a huge grin on his lips.

“Yeah like me,” Daryl snapped. He did look a notch less badass than usual but he was comfortable. Despite his reasoning, it still seemed like Paul was teasing him.

“You’re rocking that look anyway.”

“I got me some clothes, yeah. Most of my shit was torn up anyway.”

“And how’s that job treating you?”

“The best it can.”

“Okay,” Paul blinked, turning slightly to catch Daryl’s expression. “Well,” he decided to change the subject. “I’m following your advice.” He started unbuttoning his shirt and untucking it, lifting his pelvis up off the couch so the fabric was easier to pull out. Daryl watched him from behind. He couldn’t help swallowing and almost coughing from the spit going down wrong. Paul had such a small frame underneath all that clothing. Daryl was thinking things. Romantic things.

“Yeah you do that,” Daryl shifted uncomfortably, wiping the sweat on his palms off on the sofa fabric.

“I sure will.” Paul stood up, undoing his hair letting it fall on his shoulders. With a tired sigh he disappeared into his room.

 _If he only knew._ Daryl agonized.

Some time passed and Paul always left the door open a crack, like some kind of invitation to tempt his curiosity. Trying to keep his mind off him Daryl was drying plates he had pulled out of the dish washer. From his line of vision Paul came into view, a towel around his waist as he dug through the drawers for fresh clothes. Immediately Daryl looked away, continuing with his chores.

Paul came out of his room with his hair wet, he dug through the fridge and pulled out a bowl full of strawberries. He took a bite out of one, his eyes on Daryl. He leaned forward, elbows on the counter. Daryl stopped what he was doing, knowing Paul was on the verge of announcing something.

“Can we do this weekend,” Paul asked softly, an eyebrow raised.

“Do what,” Daryl smirked.

“Hunting for el chupacabra.”

“You serious? I was just kidding. We can still do the whole camping thing—“ Daryl started to ramble but Paul cut him off.

“You sounded pretty serious about it.”

“Well yeah. I know what I saw.”

“I want to see it too.”

Daryl was taken aback, he was usually met by guffawing and teasing whenever he’d say that story. But obviously it stayed on Paul’s mind and he wasn’t outright denying him either. “I’ll take my crossbow,” he instinctively said. He was met with a smile from Paul’s end.

“Crossbow?”

“Yeah. If it comes after us I can take care of it. I got your back.”

Proudly Daryl dug through one of his bags, pulling it out. Paul’s eyes grew wide when he saw it.

“You didn’t always have that did you,” Paul looked a little panicked.

“Nah. Just bought it.”

“Shit. Aren’t you a redneck cupid,” Paul gasped out, both him and Daryl looked at one another before breaking out into laughter.

“I used to have one. My brother pawned it off before even asking so he could score some of the blue stuff.”

“Blue stuff? “ Daryl nodded and shrugged. It dawned on Paul, “Drugs.”

“Yeah. He ain’t clean now, but I am.”

“I know you are,” Paul stretched and started walking to his bedroom. “Don’t forget to turn off the kitchen light when you go to bed.”

“I know,” Daryl watched him leave, he wiped his hands off on the towel and placed it on the counter.

\-----

Every morning Paul would get up for a run. He liked the fresh air and the alone time. After doing his stretches in the living room, he went outside. A couple blocks passed until he reached a four way intersection. He jogged in place, waiting for the cars to pass before crossing the street. As he started crossing something caught his eye.

There was Daryl talking to a woman, he popped open the hood of her car and started looking in, tinkering with the parts inside. She was leaning, watching him wistfully. He seemed disinterested, more concerned with whatever problem the car had.

Paul pulled out one of his earbuds, lingering near a car and a sign that he could hide behind. It was about plain and obvious what was happening here. He couldn’t help laughing.

Daryl moved the hair off of his face and told her something, she answered back. Swaying a little before placing her hand on his arm. Daryl pulled away, still talking, then went back under the hood.

It was a little creepy looking in on him for so long so Paul went around the block, circling back to the place. Daryl was already walking away, slinging his bag around his shoulder. Paul nearly ran into him.

“What are you doing here,” Paul said with a smile, sweat dripping down his temple. Daryl moved back in surprise.

“Things.”

“Looks like you’re a mechanic.”

“I caught you spying on me,” Daryl sighed. “This ain’t an accident.”

“It’s half an accident,” Paul looked a little guilty and honestly Daryl couldn’t stay angry for long. “You have time for a smoothie? I know a nice smoothie place around the corner.”

“Nah.”

“Okay,” Paul leaned against the brick wall of the building they were standing nearby, stretching his leg. He cocked an eyebrow, looking at Daryl with bright blues. His eye color was always changing, it was fascinating. “How about pancakes,” he suggested.

Daryl couldn’t say no to that.

It was the same place they’d been the first time they met. If this feeling he was feeling wasn’t romantic, he wasn’t sure what was. There was a look on Paul’s face that spelled out _remember?_ it was pretty obvious.  

Of course he did.

Paul got an iced coffee and Daryl got a hot one. A scalding hot one. He took it black with sugar, hissing as soon as he took a sip.

“Need ice cubes, I have ice cubes,” Paul was already dipping into his glass with a spoon.

“No,” Daryl smiled. Paul was the very embodiment of goodness. It made his heart twinge. He breathed out through his mouth, feeling the pain eventually pass. “Shit I won’t be tasting anything for a while.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“So,” Paul stared down at his hands, putting the spoon aside. “A mechanic? Why didn’t you say?”

“Pfft,” Daryl scoffed, looking the other way. “I dunno.”

“Working with your hands,” Paul mused, “That’s good. It’s admirable. I couldn’t be that practical. I just know how to jumpstart a car and like, change a flat tire.” He laughed.

“I don’t know. I ain’t embarrassed. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

“I’m not important like you. I don’t have a college education or none of that.”

“So?” Paul blinked, holding his drink in his hand. “Everyone can go to college whenever they want. I was lucky enough to have the opportunity to do so. But you…did you want to go?”

“Nah,” Daryl waved him off.

“It’s never too late if you save up, you know?” Paul watched Daryl silently contemplate his words.  

“I’m not that kind of smart.”

“That’s fine too. It’s all overrated honestly,” Paul shrugged. “So what if it isn’t your calling? The entire educational system is flawed. It’s failing kids every minute. That’s something we want to change. Me and Senator Grimes.”

“Him,” Daryl’s eyes widened, “The one who was on the news.”

“Yes,” Paul looked far off, smiling ear to ear. “He’s every bit as great in person as he is on tv.”

“Oh,” now Daryl’s eyes were narrowed, “His wife cheated on him right?”

“Yeah. It was pretty shitty. I mean most times those things happen behind closed doors. I was so horrified to see it out in the open.”

“I’m sure he’s fine now. He’s a real good looking fella, he’s got to have someone by now right? Guys like him have people lined up…”

Paul was watching Daryl strangely. “Just what are you insinuating?”

“Nothing, just stating shit.”

“You were leading up to something. Tell me.”

“Are you…I mean I’d get it,” Daryl moved his hair off his face, then squirmed uncomfortably in his side of the booth. After composing himself he put both elbows on the table leaning forward his voice soft, “If you’re together or whatever.”

“What,” Paul spat out, he burst into laughter, nearly knocking his silverware over. “No. He’s straight. I think. I don’t know. But I know he’s not with me. C’mon. Why’d you think that?”

“Your eyes got all weird.”

“Weird,” Paul raised his eyebrows. “You can admire someone without having to fuck them, you do realize that right?”

“I didn’t say that. I just…you know…I connect the dots.”

“Well your detective skills failed you then,” Paul smugly said, taking a sip out of his drink.

“Not even. He’s good looking, you’re good looking. Shit like that just happens.”

“I’m not that shallow.”

“Again didn’t say that.”

“Just admit it,” Paul smirked, “You were jealous.”

“Huh,” Daryl hit the table with his knee. “Not even.”

“Admit it,” stressed Paul.

Daryl wasn’t having it. His lips were held together in a pout. He crossed his arms and looked away, his cheeks a fierce pink. “You’re such an asshole.”

“Let it all out. C’mon I can take it,” Paul gestured to him with his hands.

“You always talk like you know everything.”

“Okay, go on.”

“You don’t know shit.”

“Wow. I was just kidding. I’m glad to see I got you worked up though.”

“Shut up. See, our food’s coming.”

The waitress placed each plate in front of them. Daryl immediately digging into his short stack meanwhile Paul thanked her. With his knife and fork in hand he looked at Daryl. A thought lingering in his lips.

“I saw how that woman was looking at you,” said Paul.

“What the waitress? I’m invisible to her. I know those dead eyes anywhere. She’s just tired from working so much. Being a waitress is shit.”

“Thanks for that insight. But that isn’t what I mean.”

Daryl cocked an eyebrow, distracted momentarily from his food. “Then what?”

“The one whose car you were repairing.”

“Not even,” Daryl scoffed, “She calls me all the time. Her car keeps fucking up. It’s pretty new too, I guess that says a lot about the auto industry, huh? Lots of chicks calling me about the same shit.”

“I see,” Paul laughed to himself, “I’m sure you’re all sorts of popular.”

“Yeah. Cause I’m good at what I do.”

Paul decided to give him this much. He didn’t push on but it was refreshing to see a grown man this naïve. It was sweet. Daryl was adorable in his mechanics getup, old torn up blue jeans and white t-shirt, really giving Brando a run for his money with those arms of his. For whatever reason it felt like this moment was as good as ever to say what he’d been thinking for a long time. He had a feeling Daryl probably felt the same way but was having a difficult time finding the right words.  Paul being the wordy type had found them a long time ago.

“Daryl,” Paul said pensively.

Daryl grunted, annoyed at being pulled away from his food again. “I’m hungry,” he frowned. “I woke up real early and my stomach was grumbling the whole time—“

“It’s not much I need to say honestly. We can eat and I won’t say another word after this.”

“Alright,” Daryl gruffly said, giving him his attention.

“Remember when I kissed you.”

Daryl nodded, looking at his plate coyly, “There’s not a lot that needs to be said bout that.”

“Guys don’t go around kissing other guys for nothing,” Paul smiled, his eyes growing warm.

“It wasn’t even on the mouth, not all the way on it,” Daryl reasoned, his voice soft.

“I thought about it. Maybe I missed on purpose. Maybe I was too scared,” Paul had a daydream look on his face, a look Daryl couldn’t begin to comprehend was because of him. “From the start I wanted to kiss you.”

“I thought you wanted to fight me,” Daryl chuckled, looking at Paul briefly then flinching and sitting backwards into the booth.

“When we finish eating and I go back home, take a shower, go to work, I’m just going to want to see you all over again. I look forward to the things we do.”

“It’s stupid. We do stupid things. I mean I’m not all that.”

“Seriously I’m tired of all the fundraisers, black ties and suits bullshit. For a second I was happy that you were going to be a roommate but then I was filled with dread knowing I’d have to see you day after day, never telling how I really feel. You just came to me at the worst possible time but something tells me that isn’t true.”

“Pfft. You’re saying a mouth full already. Just get to it,” Daryl fiddled with his hands.

“So rude, but honest. So rough and soft. You’re a walking contradiction. You really turn me on,” Paul laughed loudly before covering his mouth and nodding his head. “I don’t mean just sexually. You’re just such an interesting person and I’m falling in love with you.”

“Heh. What,” Daryl wasn’t so sure what he was hearing. “Love?”

“Totally and completely,” Paul put his hand over his chest, a huge grin on his lips. “I know it’s so soon and it’s stupid—I’m stupid especially with the mess I just came out of.”

“You ain’t stupid,” Daryl shoved a forkful of pancake in his mouth, Paul looking at him in surprise. The conversation ended right there. No great speech came from Daryl announcing that this love was reciprocated, not that Paul expected anything. He actually wasn’t sure what to expect. They ate in silence and amazingly enough Paul didn’t feel bad about it, he felt this sense of relief. Daryl didn’t push away, he wasn’t disgusted. He appeared to act like nothing had happened. After paying the bill they were about to go their separate ways.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight,” Paul said.

“I’ll give you a ride,” Daryl motioned for him to get on the bike but Paul declined.

“I like the walk back.”

“You’re not angry with me,” Daryl looked straight forward, his expression tense.

“No why would I be?”

Daryl got up off his bike and approached Paul, Paul falling a little backwards from being startled. Daryl put his arms around him, giving him the most awkward hug. Paul stayed there for a second, completely frozen.

 _Was this happening? I guess it was really happening._ When he came to, he rubbed his hands up and down his spine before squeezing back. Paul nuzzled him, his face buried in his neck since that’s where he reached anyway. He felt small in this embrace, it was nice being enveloped in Daryl. It seemed Daryl found this to be pretty pleasant too, breathing Paul in, lingering a little too long that people were starting to stare.

Paul was the first to notice. He pat him and tried to separate but Daryl wasn’t letting go. “Hey. Work?” chuckled Paul. Daryl snapped back into reality, moving back, his face warm from embarrassment.

“Yeah uh—“ he desperately tried to save face, “I’ll see you.”

And like that he practically disappeared. Paul watched him as the bike zoomed off, nearly passing a red light. Paul placed his hand over his mouth, the grin on his lips not wanting to go away. He dropped his head and laughed, kicking a can that blew in his direction. “Oh man. Shit.”

Nothing felt better than this. Every meaningless task from this point on was just one obstacle after another. He needed to see him and no amount of time was soon enough until they were in the same room again.

\--------

Paul forgot how quiet the wilderness could be. They left early that day, driving and arriving at their destination by the time dusk was settling on the sky.

“It’s getting late,” Paul added in, watching Daryl putting the finishing touches to their tent.

“It ain’t late enough,” said Daryl, getting up and digging through the back seat, pulling out their cooler full of beers.

“Ah, the real reason people come to places like this.”

Daryl huffed, pulling out a beer, handing one to Paul and keeping the other for himself. He took a swig and started working on the campfire. Paul helped gather the wood, throwing one log in after another as Daryl organized the whole thing. It wasn’t surprising, he knew his stuff.

Eventually they finished, Paul sitting on a tree trunk and Daryl nearby on a blanket. He poked at the fire, embers flying out. He was heating them up some chili and hot dogs. Paul was a little distracted, the darker it got, the more animals came out making all sorts of strange noises. It was chilly, he could remember the summers he’d spend in places like this, hiding under blankets, talking about all sorts of things to his friends. Figuring everything out, growing up.

He sighed, as he watched Daryl, still as silent as ever.

“So you’re sure this was the exact place,” Paul asked, Daryl nodded.

“Yeah I stayed here a couple of days before I ran into you. It’s where I was headed in the first place. Me and my brother and some friends, we always came back here. And shit—I kept thinking I’d see it again. They’d laugh and shit but I know I’ll run across the damn blood sucker again. I want to shoot it and bring it back to my stupid ass brother, make him eat his own words.”

“Hmm.”

“Why you making that face?”

“Do we really have to shoot it?”

“Don’t tell me you’re some damn pacifist.”

“Your brother sounds like a piece of crap, sorry—shouldn’t have said that but…”

“Well you ain’t too far off. But he is still my brother.”

“I think seeing it again will at least confirm it for yourself and honestly that’s all that matters. I want to be there to see it too. I admit I’m a little fascinated. Why do you think it lives here?”

“They probably breed, migrate and send the males off to find their own territory. I don’t think there’s a whole lot of them. Pfft. I doubt they give birth to more than one at a time.  If they did we’d probably see more of them then.”

“Heh,” Paul laughed to himself, Daryl was stirring the chili, bringing the spoon to his mouth, blowing on it. “Wouldn’t be a whole lot of goats left, huh?”

“Yeah,” Daryl smiled before finally deciding to put the spoon in his mouth, “It’s ready.”

When they finished eating Paul excused himself to go take a piss. He found a nice enough place not too far from the camp but not close either. At least Daryl could hear him if something bit his dick or something. Paul laughed at the thought, unzipping and pulling himself out. He started peeing until he heard a noise in front of him. His stream stopped, his heart jumped.

 _Alright_ , he talked himself down, _there’s tons of wildlife out here. It’s not a person and it’s certainly not a bloodsucking dog creature._ He lowered his head, trying to concentrate on finishing emptying his very full bladder so he could get the fuck out of there.

Again he heard something run through the leaves. Paul wasn’t stupid enough to stay there so as he was about to turn he ran into Daryl who was creeping up behind him, his crossbow in hand.

“What the fuck,” Paul hissed, nearly dying from fright.

“You hear something?”

“Yeah over there,” Paul pointed. Daryl went forward to investigate, Paul stayed a few meters behind trying to calm himself down. His face turned a bright red the second he noticed his zipper was unzipped so he promptly zipped it back up before briskly walking after Daryl.

Hunter Daryl was really something else. He was very observant, moving silently as he held a flashlight in his hand. He knew his way around the woods without giving it a single thought. Paul tried to keep up, rubbing his hands up and down his arms, instantly regretting not putting on his hoodie that was back at the camp.

“Maybe it was nothing,” Paul tried to rationalize the further they walked into the darkness.

“Sure as hell ain’t nothing,” Daryl pointed the flashlight at the crushed leaves right ahead of them. “Looks like something passed through here, and it definitely ain’t human.”

“Oh,” Paul’s blues grew round. “Shit. Do you think it was watching me?”

“Pfft. With your dick hanging out,” Daryl laughed. “Maybe you scared it away.”

“Shut up,” Paul walked by his side, chuckling to himself, “This is getting as scary as all hell right now.”

“Don’t worry. I saw all those awards of yours, they best be worth something.”

“Right. Well. I hope so. I mean that stuff is for defending myself against people not whatever this is.”

“Could be bigfoot, the mothman, hells it could be an alien,” Daryl joked. “Those are all human-like. They walk on their feet is all I know.”

“You’re not making me feel any more confident,” Paul whispered.

“Well I can handle whatever’s coming,” Daryl sounded smug, confident, Paul couldn’t help watching him with a glimmer in his eye.

“Alright well if it wasn’t my dick, it’s going to be all this talking that’s going to scare the thing away.” Paul waited for Daryl’s reaction but he said nothing. Daryl stayed still then looked up at the trees. He put a finger over his lips, pointing his crossbow upwards.

 _But dogs don’t climb trees_ , Paul thought

Daryl took one step forward and birds suddenly flew off the branches. They both knelt down shielding their faces. Sitting in the leaves both Daryl and Paul stayed still, trying to catch their breath.

“Holy,” Paul spat out, his hand over his chest.

“Just birds, it was nothing,” Daryl said more to himself than Paul. He was a little embarrassed that it took that much to get him on his ass. Crossing his legs, he placed his hands on his thighs and started laughing, looking up at Paul.

Paul wasn’t mirroring his reflection though, his mouth fell open and his eyes were wide before picking up his hand and pointing behind him. “Okay tell me—tell me what you saw.”

“Uh,” Daryl was too scared to turn, much less make a move. “Red eyes, it walked on its hind legs but ran on all fours. I was stoned though. I took mushrooms. I didn’t think—“

Slowly getting up Paul got on his knees, his hand grabbing onto Daryl’s sleeve, “I think we need to go.”

“S-should I shoot it. Think I can shoot it?”

Paul nodded, his lower lip now quivering. “No. I mean. Don’t kill it please. I don’t know what it is b-but. We need to go.” He stressed those final words firmly. Daryl was trembling too.  From behind him he heard the leaves crushing underneath its feet as it moved closer. The hairs stood behind his neck and there was nowhere else he could imagine looking to but Paul. In one swift motion Paul pulled him up and they were running, hand in hand. Daryl turned but saw nothing.

It didn’t take long for the fear to subside and they were laughing, running and laughing, dodging tree branches, logs and rocks and whatever else was in their way. Eventually they saw their camp, and they practically jumped into their tent. Daryl was on all fours looking into the darkness of the woods as Paul took initiative in zipping the opening shut.

“Wow,” was all Paul could say, his chest rising and falling. Daryl’s was too. They looked at one another, Paul confused why Daryl’s expression changed.

Daryl lunged forward kissing him, holding Paul’s face in his hands. There wasn’t any resistance there because Paul gave just as hard as Daryl did, breathing in between kisses, clutching at each other’s clothes. Buttons were always tricky and today Daryl opted out from the traditional t-shirt and had worn a flannel shirt and the real kicker was that Paul was the one in the t-shirt now. They started grinning, Paul pushing Daryl down as he straddled him, his hands going underneath the fabric of his shirt. Daryl let out a gasp, watching Paul undoing each button, the flat of his hand on his belly that sank in upon touch.

“That okay,” Paul asked.

Daryl nodded, his face was completely flustered, his hands at his sides. He wasn’t used to this kind of affection, this type of complete devotion. Paul kept looking to him to see if he was okay with all of this, with his kisses starting from behind his ear to across his jawline, just being peppered with love and care. Daryl covered his face with one of his hands feeling bashful at how his expression must have been, his face felt so hot. He probably looked really stupid not that Paul minded. From his point of view he had never seen someone look so adorable than at that moment.

Paul had returned to kissing him full on the lips, deeper like they were being consumed in this black hole.  There was no way they could go back now. Daryl’s hands held his tiny waist, sliding up his bare back. Paul separated himself just to pull his shirt over his head. Daryl looked at him in awe, he was so beautiful staring back at him from up there, still so far away. Eyes sultry and green. He never wanted to be closer to someone than now. There was a gentleness in his touch, urgent but unsteady, afraid like Paul was about to withdraw at any moment. He smoothed his silky auburn hair down, he didn’t want it looking messy, he wanted Paul to stay perfect as he always saw him.

Paul’s cheeks grew rosy spreading down his chest now flushed a bright pink. He was seemingly surprised at how Daryl was so focused on him, holding Daryl’s hand that now rested on his cheek. They kissed again, Paul vigilantly working on finishing undressing Daryl.

As soon as he saw Daryl’s skin, he muttered in adoration, “Oh god,” his hands gripping at his flesh, Paul’s hips grinding against Daryl’s of their own volition. Daryl threw his head back, breathing in deeply as he ground his teeth. Paul couldn’t help kissing his neck, his tongue swirling around Daryl’s adam’s apple that bobbed up and down as he swallowed his own spit. He trembled, Paul moved the fabric off of Daryl’s shoulders, Daryl propping himself up so he could help cast it aside.

Now they were both shirtless. This was really happening. Both of their eyes scanned each other’s bodies before kissing again, Daryl pulling Paul close. “You’re so,” Daryl’s voice shuddered, Paul’s warm form moving up against him, it was so agonizingly good. He didn’t want it any other way. Paul breathed into his mouth, rubbing his forehead against his. Daryl’s eyes shot open, Paul’s hand was cupping his growing erection and like that he had him practically whimpering, he couldn’t completely let himself go, but by now he was a total mess, holding his mouth shut trying to suppress the moans that wanted to come out. The way Paul was looking at him, the way his lips were parted, a bright red from spit and friction and god knows what else. He liked to see him in that state, he was so god damned gorgeous that way.

Then there was the eventual sound of his pants unzipping. Paul shifted so his hand could go in, cupping him from underneath his fabric. Nothing prepared him for this, Paul spit an obscene amount of saliva in his hand and started really working him. His hands nimble and skilled, Daryl saw him disappear and felt him breathing on his pelvis. He couldn’t stop thinking of his lips, red and plump and now they were around the head of his dick, sucking him off so slow and then so fast. Daryl’s moved up against him, both of his arms over his face, he stuttered, letting out a long moan, trying to stifle it with his forearm.

“Let’s get these off,” he heard Paul say, Daryl was shocked at how sudden they moved apart again. Paul was wiping his mouth off and pulling at Daryl’s pants by one leg and then the other. Their eyes locked, Daryl nervously looking at Paul who was sitting pretty, holding one of his calves in his hand pulling off his sock with a silly look on his face. “You don’t need this one,” he moved closer, now in between his legs, and pulled off Daryl’s other sock, then threw it.

“It ain’t equal,” Daryl laughed, feeling a bit exposed since Paul still had his pants on.

“Right,” Paul nodded. He got undressed quickly and climbed on top of him, giving him a few more kisses, his hands working on that erection—well—erections, one stroking Daryl’s, the other stroking his own. “Shit,” he raised his eyebrows like he had some revelation. “I want you, so bad.”

“How,” Daryl muttered, as if he really knew what it meant. But in all honesty he didn’t really care, he just wanted Paul to be happy, to feel as happy as he made him just by holding him and touching him and telling him all these sweet things he had never heard in his life.

“Ugh let’s try something but if you feel uncomfortable tell me okay, this is your first time…with a guy right,” Paul asked, his eyes searching his. Daryl froze and nodded. Well it was his first time. In general. It was a little embarrassing.

“Yeah I uh,” Daryl’s eyes nearly went cross-eyed, just watching Paul suck on his own finger.

“I’m gonna ugh—p-push this in and uh—“he pushed in gently, Daryl’s hips raised up off the ground, he breathed out, panting a little. “Is that okay,” Paul licked his lips, Daryl furrowed his brow and nodded. “Look this’ll help,” he spit on his hand and stroked his erection, flicking his wrist until he felt Daryl relaxing more and more. “That good?”

“Mmm yeah,” Daryl was getting used to it but now he was breathing harder than ever, he kept telling himself to calm down but it was so good. Whatever he was doing, it was great and it was because Paul was the one doing it. He was completely there for him, reciprocating his moans each time a felt a wave of pleasure pass through him.

“You feel good. You feel great. Mmm like velvet. I’m sorry, forgive me if I seem impatient here,” Paul mused out loud, biting his lower lip, watching Daryl writhe in front of him. “Look I’m gonna curl my finger and—“

“Shut up—“ Daryl gasped out loud, his mouth wide open, “Oh fuck.”

“Atta boy,” Paul moaned, he pushed in and out a few more times. “Two fingers now.” He spit again.

Eyebrows raised, Daryl, gripped at Paul’s wrist, Paul took the cue to start kissing him again. Daryl kept losing his concentration, he kept forgetting Paul was right there hovering above him, lovingly watching every expression he made. “Oh fuck I hate you,” Daryl grumbled in a haze. Paul blinked slowly, a smile spreading on his lips as he kept fucking him.

“I love you.”

Daryl let his head fall back, blinking, his pupils just as blown as Paul’s. “Love you too.”

Paul leaned down and kissed him. He pulled out a condom, ripping the wrapper open and putting it on. “Heh,” Paul hovered over him, Daryl’s hands moving up and down his arms, nodding as he elevated his legs just enough to let him push in and when he did, well, he certainly felt it. Daryl’s eyes rolled back, it was a whole lot to deal with at once, a total sensory overload. Paul was biting on his own lips so hard, wrinkling his eyebrows in deep concentration so that he wouldn’t lose it right then. So tight and hot and a million other adjectives came to mind all at once. He disciplined himself to move, to angle himself just right so he could see Daryl make that same delicious expression again and again.

No matter how comfortable they tried to make it, the position wasn’t working and Daryl wound up laying on his stomach, Paul thrusting into him from behind. It was better that way, it was the only position that let Daryl feel comfortable enough to make whatever expression he wanted. Each push sent him reeling, he was clutching at his sleeping bag, biting at the fabric, his face a beet red. With one hand Paul gripped at his torso, holding him steady as his other hand stroked him with each push.

Daryl was getting fucked so good, he was practically crying at how amazing it felt. Tears were streaming down his face, feeling Paul kissing the center of his back, his breath steadily going faster and faster, his sweat slick against him, slipping and sliding until he heard him let out his name low and guttural. Daryl’s felt his knees nearly give way, his own climax overcoming him until he fell to back to the earth as a pile of mush. Fireworks. There were fireworks. Paul collapsed on top of him, both his hands holding Daryl’s sides as they laid there in complete disarray.


	5. Bedtime Story.

Paul heard Daryl breathe in deep and then exhale, shifting so that he could wipe his face and get up on his elbows. Moving off of him Paul laid on his side watching him dreamily as Daryl pulled some blankets over himself, covering his back. Soothingly Paul ran his fingertips up and down his spine, focusing on Daryl dragging his bag close to him so he could pull out his pack of cigarettes. Daryl turned slightly, a small smile on his lips.

“You’re beautiful,” Paul said in a whisper, his eyes scanning the tattoos and the scars he wasn’t going to ask about since Daryl thought to cover himself. He didn’t need to. But all these pieces added up to a very gorgeous, complicated person.

Their gaze locked, Daryl’s eyes grew bright and wide, the vulnerability coming in a flash and disappearing just as fast. “I’m ugly, don’t you bullshit me.” He laughed.

“Don’t say that,” Paul pressed himself against him draping his arm around his waist, holding him close. He could feel his limbs growing heavy, the hum and buzz from the act itself was fading but this part was just as great as anything before. Daryl had unzipped the tent opening a little, giving them some ventilation as he smoked his cigarette in silence. Paul’s hand rested on Daryl’s pelvis, playing with the trail of dirty blond hair leading downwards.   

“So you were always—“ Daryl stopped himself, inhaling on his cigarette then exhaling.

“What?”

“Sweet on me?”

Paul chuckled, his laugher vibrating against Daryl. “I’ve done my fair share of explaining my feelings to you…and well—uhh expressing them..too.”

“Yeah I know…uhm—“ Daryl stammered, giving his cigarette a few more puffs, then putting it out for later. “I just want to hear again.”

“Well,” Paul got back on his elbows, running his hands through Daryl’s wispy brown hair. Daryl curled up, pulling the blanket tight, feeling himself relax as Paul’s voice soothed him, “The second I saw you I knew this was it…the start of forever. I didn’t know-know but it was a gut feeling, something I couldn’t explain then. You were looking like the most interesting man I’d ever seen in my life. I couldn’t begin to grasp at that point how you’d make me so happy, how I’d fall so hard for you. I was dealing with such a stupid problem and you were just the guy to fix it.”

Daryl started to doze off right as Paul had begun the story, it wasn’t such a bad thing though. He didn’t have a problem with letting himself fall asleep because he knew perfectly well that this was the first of many times he’d hear him tell it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much reading, for the comments, the kudos, all that great stuff. I promised a happy ending and I delivered that cherry at the top of the sundae. I'd love feedback, I want to know how you guys feel about it.
> 
> [Buy Me a Coffee](https://ko-fi.com/D1D3E27K)


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